


I was careful, but nothing is harmless (baby you better hurry)

by suzukiblu



Series: don't leave me here alone [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Cognitive Dissonance, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Mpreg, Multiple Orgasms, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Omega Steve Rogers, Overstimulation, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Red Room references, References To Past Rape/Noncon, Sex Toys, and for once the asset (mostly) remembers that, super soldier refractory periods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 11:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19745161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzukiblu/pseuds/suzukiblu
Summary: The mission is upset.The asset does the best he can do.





	I was careful, but nothing is harmless (baby you better hurry)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZepysGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZepysGirl/gifts).



> Written for zepysgirl, who wanted more in this AU. Honestly not the original next part I was planning back in the day, but the original next part was a loooooot more depressing and I don’t know if I’ll be writing in this series again so I decided I didn’t want to leave it on such a massive downer. Because believe me, it was a MASSIVE downer. 
> 
> Also, it’s been a very long time since I wrote the first two installments, so hopefully this still flows nicely with them.

Bucky. 

Bucky. 

Bucky. 

The asset repeats the name to himself over and over, in secret in his head. His head has secrets, now. _He_ can have secrets now. 

He doesn’t, really, but it’s an option. 

He repeats the name to himself again, staring up at the ceiling. It still doesn’t feel like his, and he still hasn’t woken up to be Bucky Barnes. At this point he’s pretty sure it’s safe to say he never will. Steve still wants to call him that, though, and since there’s not really any other options the asset doesn’t blame him. “Asset” isn’t really a name, after all, and it could get confusing on missions. 

Assuming he ever goes on a mission again, he means. So far he hasn’t. He’s unstable, so that makes sense. It’s better to be in the tower, anyway, because the tower’s where Steve is. He’s stopped going out now that he smells so strongly bred and his stomach’s so visibly swollen. The asset appreciates that; he’s much easier to protect in the tower. 

He hasn’t actually needed to protect him yet, unless chasing off Stark when he gets annoying counts. That only works about half the time anyway. Still, though, it’s better knowing that Steve is somewhere safe. 

The asset wants very few things like he wants to know that Steve is somewhere safe. 

Right now, Steve is in the lab, and the asset is waiting outside it. Steve spends more and more time in the lab lately, but he never makes the asset go in with him. The asset spends a lot of time sitting in the hall outside, trying to remember how to be Bucky Barnes or an alpha or just whatever it is Steve needs and deserves. 

He should go in, he thinks sometimes, but so far every time he’s gone in he’s slipped, and when he slips it’s always a _thing_ and Steve getting checked up on by Banner should not be a _thing_. 

Banner isn’t like other scientists, anyway. The asset doesn’t have to worry about what he’ll do. It took the asset a while to figure that out, but they’ve been doing this for a while now. 

Steve is twenty weeks along, which means he has twenty weeks to go. So in twenty weeks, they’ll have pups. 

The asset’s been thinking a lot about that. 

The door opens beside him, the asset cranes his neck to look, and Steve steps out of the lab. 

“Thank you, Bruce,” he says. 

“No problem,” Banner says from wherever he is in the lab. “Don’t forget about the iron supplements.” 

“I won’t,” Steve promises, and then he looks down at the asset and gives him a soft smile. “Ready to go?” 

“Anywhere you want, doll,” the asset says, getting to his feet. He talks like that more these days. Steve seems to like it, and he likes Steve liking it. 

Steve leads the way, because he always does. The asset catches his hand in his own, because Steve likes that, and he likes . . . well, he’s not sure if he likes Steve liking it or likes it _himself_. There are a lot of things the asset does that he isn’t quite sure about, but as long as they don’t have anything directly to do with handlers or HYDRA, Steve doesn’t seem to care. 

A lot of things that the asset does do have something to do with handlers or HYDRA. But he’s getting better about that. 

He thinks he is, anyway. 

Steve squeezes the asset’s hand, and the asset feels like he’s melting. Steve leads them to the elevator and inside the elevator and the asset waits for the doors to shut and then crowds in close and kisses him. Maybe a good omega wouldn’t be so pushy, and maybe a proper alpha wouldn’t have bothered waiting, but . . . 

Steve kisses him back, which is really the only thing the asset cares about. 

“Bucky,” Steve murmurs between their mouths. The asset bites him. Just a little. Steve bites back. 

It’s . . . _very_ nice. 

“I wanna eat you out,” the asset says, licking his lips. Steve just smells so _good_ all the time, especially lately, and it’s been _hours_ since the last time they touched each other. 

“In the room, okay?” Steve says, brushing a hand through his hair. The asset bites the inside of his wrist, and Steve makes a soft, pleased sound. 

“Okay,” the asset says, staring intently at Steve for a moment before kissing him again. It’s hard to pick between things like that, sometimes. Steve cups his face in his hands and he pushes his own hands down the back of Steve’s pants and they kiss, and kiss, and _kiss_ —

The elevator stops, and the doors open. There’s a theatrical sigh from outside it, and the asset looks over and it’s Stark, of course, standing there with Romanoff. 

“You know, _I_ used to be the one in this tower who was always getting walked in on at awkward moments,” Stark says. The asset nuzzles Steve, because that’s more important than whatever Stark has to say. Steve makes him take his hands out of his pants, because Steve cares far too much about what other people see them doing. The asset doesn’t care what anyone sees. 

“Sorry,” Steve says. 

“Sure you are,” Stark says. “Are we good to ride up with you or do you two need a moment?” 

“We need a moment,” the asset says. 

“You can ride up with us,” Steve says at the same time. Stark gives them both a _look_. The asset continues not to care, and pushes his mouth into Steve’s throat and wraps his arms tight around him. Steve puts a hand on the back of his head. Stark sighs theatrically again, but steps into the elevator. Romanoff follows him. 

“Are you an alpha or an omega today?” she asks as the doors close, and the asset . . . frowns. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he says eventually. Some days it does, but right now all that really matters is that Steve isn’t going to let him keep kissing him with other people around. He hooks his chin over the other’s shoulder grumpily, and then feels very strange because an asset doesn’t get _grumpy_. But the asset does, and is. 

He’s been a lot of things an asset shouldn’t be, since Steve brought him to the tower. 

“Alright,” Romanoff says. The asset turns his head enough to look at her. He wonders if she thinks of herself as an asset too. He wonders if she still dances. 

. . . still? 

He frowns, not sure where that thought came from. Steve puts a hand on his back. 

“Were you with Bruce?” Romanoff asks. 

“Yes,” Steve says. 

“How did it go?” 

“It went.” Steve shrugs. “Everything’s fine, as far as he can tell. Perfect, actually.” 

“And?” Romanoff says, her expression searching. 

“And everything’s perfect.” Steve smiles humorlessly. The asset frowns. He touches his face. 

“You’re upset,” he says. 

“I’m fine,” Steve lies. The asset might be upset to be lied to, but it’s _Steve_. And anyway, it’s such a bad job of lying that it doesn’t really matter anyway. 

“You get worse at that every time, doll,” the asset says. 

“I still cannot believe the most prolific political assassin of the century calls you _doll_ ,” Stark says. 

“Last week I heard you call Pepper the CEO of your heart in cold blood,” Steve says dryly. 

“That’s literally true! She _replaced_ it once!” 

“We’re talking about how things went with Bruce later,” Romanoff says as the elevator stops again. It’s their floor. 

“It really was fine,” Steve says. 

“I believe _that_ part was fine,” Romanoff says. 

“I swear, you are the only omega I know who could find a way to get upset about things being _fine_ ,” Stark snorts. Steve gives them both a wry smile and steps out of the elevator, and the asset follows him out. 

“We’ll talk about it later,” Steve promises. The doors close behind them. 

“You could talk about it in front of me,” the asset says. He doesn’t like the idea of being separated from Steve twice in one day, although he knows he should be better about handling that kind of thing. Steve hasn’t told him to be yet, so he hasn’t tried to. 

“I really can’t,” Steve says, taking his hand again and squeezing it. “It’s nothing you’ve done. Some things are just . . . complicated.” 

“I don’t understand complicated things anyway,” the asset says, and Steve just . . . looks very _sad_ , just for a moment. 

“I know,” he says. “I don’t want to upset you with it, that’s all.” 

“I get upset no matter what,” the asset reminds him. He’s upset more often than he’s not, usually. Maybe a little less lately, but in general, if someone’s upset, it’s usually him. 

Well. Or Steve. 

“It’s complicated,” Steve says again. The asset frowns. Steve doesn’t say anything else. They arrive at their room, and Steve walks in. The asset follows him, because of course he follows him. It’s safe here. He doesn’t have to check every single room for enemies. 

He wants to say whatever Bucky Barnes would say, but he has no idea what that would be. 

The asset shuts the door behind them, and Steve kisses him. The asset melts into it, which is not a thing that an asset should do but is happening all the same. Fuck the things an asset should do; all that matters is what _Steve_ wants _his_ asset to do. Being kissable is the easiest mission the asset has ever had. 

There’s a knife taped to his calf and a lot more knives in every corner of this room and a lot of people left to kill in the world, but Steve is kissing him and that’s the only thing that matters. 

“Will you come into the nest with me?” Steve asks. The asset shivers. 

“Yes,” he says. He’ll always say yes to that question. 

He’ll say yes to most things Steve asks him, admittedly, but this one in particular he would say yes to no matter what. Steve wants him in his nest? He’ll never leave it again, and he’ll kill anyone who tries to make him. 

Steve leads the way to the nest. The asset follows blissfully, because there is no better place to be. Steve gestures him in first, then follows after. The asset checks all the hidden knives to make sure none have come loose or been taken. Steve comes inside and sits against the pile of pillows most perfectly shaped to cradle his body, and the asset remembers that he’d wanted to eat him out and licks his lips again. 

“We’re in the room,” he says. 

“We are,” Steve agrees. The asset figures that’s permission, and drops to his knees to kiss him. Steve wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him in close. The asset tugs at the waistband of his pants, soft and elastic and easy to pull down. Steve lifts his hips to make it easier. 

“Steve,” the asset says, nuzzling their jaws together. Steve kisses him again. 

Everything’s perfect but something’s wrong, and Steve doesn’t want to talk about it. These are facts the asset knows, and can do nothing with. He can kiss him, though, and be kissed back, and keep him in this small warm dark place until maybe things aren’t so wrong anymore. 

“Bucky,” Steve breathes between their mouths as he kicks out of his pants. The asset kisses him harder. He isn’t that name, but he’ll be whatever Steve wants. Even if it’s hard, he’ll figure it out. He’s done much harder, he’s sure. 

Usually sure. 

“Bucky,” Steve says again, and the asset kisses his face and neck and shoulder. Steve clings tight to him, keeping him close. The asset wants to kiss his stomach or bury his face between his thighs but Steve seems to want this, so he settles for working a hand between them to wrap around the other’s cock, already mostly hard. 

That’s one thing the asset’s good at making happen. 

Besides the violent things, obviously. 

Steve sighs, his head tipping back, and the asset kisses up his throat and strokes his cock. Steve wraps a long bare leg around his waist. The asset thinks about fucking him but lately he always worries that’ll be bad for the pups. Steve says it’s fine, but the asset still worries about it. Sometimes he doesn’t think he should be as close to them as Steve lets him get. 

Steve can feel them kicking now, he says. Who knows what they’re feeling themselves? 

He always keeps the arm away from Steve’s stomach. 

“That feels good,” Steve murmurs. The asset _adores_ him. 

“I wanna eat you out,” he says, probably beat for beat a perfect match for the last time he said it. He doesn’t know what else to say. Bucky Barnes would have words in these moments, the asset is sure, but he can only say the first things that come to mind. “You’re so pretty, Stevie-doll, I love it when you come on my tongue, it tastes like _candy_.” 

“It does _not_ ,” Steve says with a huffed little laugh, pushing a hand into his hair. The asset pushes into the contact and twists his wrist so Steve has to stifle a heated little yelp. It’s the prettiest sound the asset’s heard since the last time he had a hand on Steve’s cock. “You’re _insatiable_ , you know that?” 

“Okay,” the asset agrees. As long as Steve likes it, he doesn’t care. 

“Okay,” Steve murmurs, and kisses him again. He puts a hand between his own thighs, just past the asset’s, and touches his hole. He does things like that more and more these days—just, touching himself, doing nice little things to himself. The asset really likes it. 

He’s pretty sure it’s Steve trying to get him to do the same thing to himself, but he hasn’t quite managed that yet. Touching Steve is always more important. 

He keeps stroking Steve’s cock and Steve works a couple fingers inside himself and the asset’s mouth waters. He wants to do that, but he can’t use the wrong hand for it and Steve is keeping him held in so close anyway, he’d have to pull back to do it. He could, obviously, and he doubts Steve would stop him, but it would still mean pulling back from him. 

He doesn’t like doing that kind of thing. 

Steve makes some noises. They are _very_ pretty noises. The asset tightens his grip on his cock and pushes his thumb up over the head and Steve _squirms_. The asset drags his tongue up his throat. 

“Nnn,” Steve says, and “Just like that, doll, you’re so pretty, I love how you sound right now, wanna eat you _alive_ ,” the asset says. He doesn’t know if they’re Bucky Barnes’ words or not, but they’re what come to mind. 

Steve is so perfect, every time. 

“You could fuck me,” Steve says, squirming again. 

“I wanna eat you out,” the asset repeats. Steve likes him to want things. Steve shudders when he says it, so he thinks that’s what that means. 

“Yeah, okay,” Steve says, and finally lets go of him enough to let him move back. The asset immediately takes the implied orders and does. He lays down and Steve shifts his hips lower and pulls his fingers out, and the asset manages to catch his hand quick enough that he can lick it clean. Steve shudders again and curls his fingers against his tongue. The asset is pretty close to shuddering himself. 

He wants to do so many things to Steve, it’s hard to pick. He lets his fingers fall out of his mouth, though, and wraps his lips around the head of his cock instead. Steve hisses and lays a hand very gently on his head. The asset would like him to yank his hair, but isn’t sure how to ask for it. Some of the things he asks for upset Steve, especially when he can’t place the source of the want. Usually Steve just goes with it, though, as long as he doesn’t say it’s something from maintenance, so . . . 

“Pull my hair,” he says, lifting his head just long enough to speak, just long enough to catch Steve’s pretty, pretty eyes, and then dropping it again to swallow the other down. He has to remind himself not to expect a knot, but he has to do that most times. It doesn’t make Steve any less his alpha, anyway. 

Steve shouldn’t be his alpha, but . . . 

The asset sucks, and rolls his tongue up tight, and bobs his head, and Steve mewls and hisses and curses and digs his fingers into his hair _just_ right, like it’s something he does every time. Maybe it is something he does every time, and the asset’s just forgotten. He still forgets a lot of things. 

It’s hard to imagine forgetting anything about this, though. 

He opens his throat to let Steve in as deep as he can get, bracing his hips with the wrong hand and moving the right one to finger testingly at his hole. Steve lets him in like it’s nothing, and the asset might say something about that if his mouth weren’t so full. 

It’s very nice, though, so maybe he’ll say something about it later. 

He rocks his fingers in and does his best to encourage Steve to fuck his mouth, though that’s something he’s pretty sure Steve’s still never done. He does get him to move his hips a bit, though, which feels like a triumph. 

It’s probably better if Steve doesn’t fuck his mouth anyway. That seems like something that might make him slip. The asset doesn’t mind slipping, but he minds Steve’s _reaction_ to him slipping. He’s been doing his best to avoid things that might make him. 

Part of him still really wants Steve to be rougher, though. 

The asset ignores that part and concentrates on more important things, like how Steve’s reacting right _now_ and the way his body tenses and trembles under his hands and mouth, and how his hips shift and his fingers drag and the noises he’s making and the leg he’s hooked over his shoulder. The asset can think of very few places he’d rather be right now—or ever—than between Steve’s legs, making him feel as good as possible. 

Steve’s heel digs _hard_ into his back, and he comes. Slick spills out over the asset’s fingers and come fills up his mouth and he lets Steve’s cock fall out of his mouth and pants for breath. He doesn’t stop working his fingers inside him, and Steve throws his head back again and _keens_. 

His fingers are very tight in the asset’s hair. It feels like he never wants him to go anywhere again. 

The asset likes it. 

“Stevie,” he says, licking come off his mouth. “I don’t wanna stop.” 

_“Don’t,”_ Steve moans, and the asset takes that as full permission to keep rocking his fingers in and to duck his mouth down to lick in around them. Steve _moans_. He hasn’t even gone properly soft. The asset doesn’t want to let him. 

They’re super-soldiers, aren’t they? They might as well take advantage of it. 

“Bucky, Bucky, _Bucky_ ,” Steve pants, and the asset licks and sucks and mouths at him, fucks him with his fingers, grips his hip _tight_ to keep him in close. Steve yanks his hair and pushes up into his mouth. It’s exactly what the asset wants. He grinds his own neglected cock into the cushions, pretty sure he could come just from this. He’s done it a couple times now. But—“Don’t,” Steve says, so he doesn’t. 

Steve likes to get to touch him. The asset isn’t stupid enough to complain about _that_. 

He keeps working his mouth and fingers into and against Steve’s hole, and Steve moans louder and louder and keeps pushing into him. The asset’s jaw is starting to hurt a little, but in a way that feels _good_. He isn’t stupid enough to complain about that either. He’ll stay right here as long as Steve wants him to. 

Steve comes again. The asset _purrs_. 

“Stop,” Steve says breathlessly, and the asset pulls back. Steve wraps heavy arms around his neck and kisses him. The asset relishes it, and lets Steve tug him down against his side. He’s still hard, his cock pressing into the warm curve of Steve’s hip, but that’s alright. He can wait. Especially if Steve’s going to keep kissing him like this. 

Really, the asset doesn’t need much, and all of it’s something Steve has. 

“Do you want to come?” Steve asks after a little while longer of kissing. The asset nods. “Okay. Do you care how?” 

“I want you to do it,” the asset says, biting the inside of his cheek. Steve smiles faintly at him as he brushes his hair back out of his face. 

“I can do that,” he says, then worms a hand between them to cup the asset’s knot. The asset hisses, pushing his cock into Steve’s hand and his mouth into his neck. Even just this little bit of attention feels _miles_ better than maintenance ever did. He doesn’t say that, though, because Steve might get upset about it and being touched by him is much more important anyway. 

“Feels good,” he says instead, because it’s true and so far saying it’s never upset Steve. “Kiss me again?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Steve says, and does. The asset cups Steve’s face in his hands, right and wrong, and lets himself shudder. He thinks Steve’s not upset right now. It’s hard to tell sometimes, but others it’s just the most obvious thing. So he thinks Steve’s not upset right now, but he’s pretty sure he will be again later. He’ll settle for what he can get, though. 

They kiss. Steve spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around the asset’s cock. It feels good, like just about everything Steve does to him. The asset pushes into the contact. 

He wants to do this all the time. They do it a lot, but not often enough for the asset. If it was up to him, they’d never leave the bedroom. They’d never leave the _nest_ , if it was up to him. Well—once the pups are born. But not before then. 

“Can we try something?” Steve says. 

“Yes,” the asset says, watching him attentively. 

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Steve says. “But remember when I told you I had that toy . . . ?”

“Yes,” the asset says immediately. He’s not forgetting that one anytime soon. 

“I got a new one,” Steve says, biting his lip; working his hand around the asset’s cock. “It’s, uh . . . bigger.” 

“Bigger?” the asset repeats distractedly, mostly absorbed in the way Steve’s touching him. 

“Longer, I guess I mean,” Steve says. “It’s double-ended.” 

The asset tilts his head. He pictures that. 

“You want to use it together,” he says slowly. 

“Yes.” Steve pushes his thumb up over the head of the asset’s cock. The asset wraps his arms around him and clings to him. 

“Yes,” he says. “I want to do that.” 

“It knots,” Steve says. “Is that alright?” 

“You’ll knot me?” The asset tightens his grip on him and represses a squirm, his heartbeat picking up at the thought. 

“If you want me to,” Steve says, and the asset nods urgently. 

“I always want you to,” the asset says. “I want you to do everything to me.” 

“Okay,” Steve says, pressing a kiss to his temple and stroking his cock a little harder. “Can you come for me first?” 

“Yes,” the asset says with another urgent nod, digging his fingers in against Steve’s back. That’s the easiest thing Steve’s ever asked of him, he thinks. Steve kisses his temple again and strokes him faster, and the asset shivers and shudders and lets himself sink into the way it feels. He thinks about the idea of Steve knotting him, of them being tied together like that, and it’s not hard at all to come. 

He really only does ever feel right when they’re together. 

Steve licks his fingers clean while the asset recovers. The asset watches, feeling heavy and warm and sticky, and then kisses him. This is always so _good_. Steve kisses him back, then gets up. 

“Be right back,” he says, and the asset reminds himself that Steve only leaves for a reason, and always comes back. 

“Okay,” he says, watching the other go. Steve doesn’t go far this time, just to the bed. He pulls a box out from underneath it and pulls out a smaller box from inside. There’s a picture on the side of it. He takes the toy out of it. It’s dark blue and ridged and _big_. 

The asset _squirms_. 

“Do you have the lube?” Steve asks, and the asset immediately grabs the bottle of it out of its hidden corner of the nest to show him. Steve smiles at him, faintly, and the asset feels warm all over. “If you end up not liking this, just tell me, okay? We’ll do something else.” 

“Okay,” the asset says distractedly. He’s mostly looking at the toy. More specifically, he’s looking at the toy’s _knots_. Because the toy has knots. Because Steve is going to knot him with it. 

It’s very hard not to be presenting right now. 

“Feeling greedy, huh?” Steve says wryly, coming back to the nest with the toy. The asset gets up on his knees to meet him. He puts the wrong hand on the back of Steve’s thighs and the right one on his stomach. He wonders if the pups can feel the pressure. 

“Yes,” he says. He’s always greedy when it’s Steve. “How do we use it?” 

“Very carefully,” Steve says, brushing his free hand through his hair. “It’s pretty big.” 

“I like big,” the asset says, and Steve gives him that faint smile again. 

“I know,” he says, and a little thrill of pleasure goes through the asset. Does that mean Steve picked it out thinking about that? He must’ve. 

“Get me wet,” he says. Steve leans down and kisses him. 

“Will you do it today?” he asks. “At least to start?” 

The asset blanks out a little, not quite understanding, and then realizes what he means. He blinks. 

“I can,” he says uncertainly. Steve wants him to touch himself, he’s reminded. This probably counts. 

“I’d like that,” Steve says, and then the asset doesn’t feel quite so uncertain. It won’t be hard to just do what Steve’s been doing to him, he’s sure, though he’s also sure it won’t feel as good as when Steve does it. That’s fine. Steve’s going to knot him after this, and that’ll feel better than _anything_. 

Steve sits down in front of him, and the asset spreads his legs and hooks his thighs over the other’s as he leans back on his wrong hand. Steve wants to see, he figures, so he’ll make sure he can see. He slicks up his fingers and pushes one into himself, feeling odd about it but not really minding. It doesn’t feel the same as when Steve does it, but it doesn’t feel bad or anything. 

Steve’s watching him, so he really doesn’t have anything to complain about. 

“Steve,” the asset says, on principle. Steve leans forward and kisses him, and the asset hums in pleasure. _Definitely_ nothing to complain about, he thinks, working in another finger. The pressure’s a little much, and he didn’t wait as long as Steve would’ve, but he really wants to be stretched and ready for the other’s knot. A little bit of burn doesn’t matter, getting to that. 

Steve keeps kissing him for a little while, and then leans back and watches him again. The asset moves his fingers inside of himself, trying to figure out the just-right angle. It’s harder, somehow, doing it to himself. He’s pretty sure it shouldn’t be. 

He figures it out, anyway. 

“Steve,” he pants, rocking his fingers in deeper, and Steve runs a hand up his arm and cups his elbow. “Stevie, oh, oh—” 

“Do you like it?” Steve asks. 

“Not as much as I like you,” the asset says truthfully even as he shudders. There isn’t much he likes that much, frankly. There isn’t much he _could_ like that much, or would even want to. 

Steve squeezes the asset’s elbow. That point of contact feels even better than fucking himself, which doesn’t surprise him at all. 

The asset spreads his thighs further and works in another finger to stretch himself better. Steve watches him do it, which makes him shudder again. 

“What do you think?” the asset asks breathlessly. “I make a pretty picture?” 

“The prettiest,” Steve says, running a hand up his thigh. The asset lets him push it up and push him back into the cushions. It still feels better than his fingers do. 

“You’re going to knot me,” the asset says, _squirming_. 

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve says, looking down at him with a terrible tenderness. The asset bites his lip. 

“Do it,” he says, pulling his fingers out of himself. It’s good enough, he thinks. 

“You sure you’re stretched enough?” Steve asks, and the asset nods roughly. He’d probably say yes even if he weren’t, he can admit in his own head, but he’s ready enough. He’s only got so much patience when he’s waiting for Steve to touch him. 

Steve leans down and kisses him, pinning his thigh between their bodies, and the asset _relishes_ it. But also—

_“Steve,”_ he whines, because Steve promised him his knot and he can’t think about anything else now, nothing but that. He _wants_ nothing but that. 

“Okay,” Steve murmurs, and lets go of him and leans back. He slicks up one end of the toy. The asset watches. The asset _squirms_. 

“You’re so good to me, Stevie-doll, you treat me just right,” he says. “I wanna see you come again.” 

“That won’t be long,” Steve says wryly, putting the lube aside and leaning in again. “Are you ready?” 

The asset immediately nods, pushing his hips up to meet the toy as Steve presses it against him. The toy slides in deep, deeper than the asset expected, and he bites his lip so hard it nearly bleeds. 

_“Alpha,”_ he chokes. 

“I’ve got you,” Steve says. “Does it feel alright?” 

“It feels _good_ ,” the asset says. He clenches his fists against the blankets and digs his heels into the cushions. Steve wraps his fingers around his cock and pulls the toy back, and then pushes it in again. The asset moans, hips jerking up, and Steve fucks him. 

It’s so much better than just touching himself. 

“Stevie, Stevie, baby doll that’s so _good_ —” he gasps out, fingers fisting in the blankets this time, and Steve keeps fucking him. He wonders if he’s going to make him come again before he uses the toy on himself. He wonders how many times he _can_ come, if it’s Steve touching him. Probably more than he thinks. 

“Good,” Steve says, tightening the hand on his cock, fucking the toy in just that little bit faster. “I want you to feel good.” 

“I _do_ ,” the asset swears, his eyes about to roll back in his head, his heels digging for purchase. He can feel the toy’s knot bumping up against him, big and fat and everything he wants, and he wants it _inside_ him. Wants _Steve_ inside him. “Knot me, knot me, c’mon, doll, _please_ —” 

Steve pushes the knot in. The asset _keens_. He comes all over Steve’s hand, and Steve works him through it. 

“You did good, Buck,” Steve murmurs. The asset squeezes down on the knot possessively, panting for breath and basking in the praise. “You feel alright?” 

“Not yet,” the asset manages past a shudder. “You too, okay?” 

“Okay,” Steve says, and bends the other end of the toy up and sits down on it effortlessly, all the way to the knot. He’s so wet he’s _dripping_ , and the asset’s mouth goes dry. 

He’d give Steve anything he wanted, but it’s so much better when the other _takes_ it. 

“Nnn,” the asset says. 

“Hold on,” Steve says, and moves his hand up the toy a bit in the short space between the knots. Something clicks, and the toy starts to _buzz_. The asset yelps, throwing his head back, and Steve lets out a breathy sigh. The buzzing starts to _pulse_. 

“Steve,” the asset chokes, and Steve rolls his hips. 

“Told you the toys were better now,” he says, almost conversationally. 

“Steve Steve _Steve_ —” 

“Yeah. I know.” 

The toy keeps buzzing and pulsing and the asset is overstimulated and _aching_ and doesn’t know how to move. Steve has a hand on the toy and a hand on the asset’s stomach, keeping him pinned to the cushions. The asset wants to touch him everywhere he can reach. The asset wants to be inside him. He wants to _knot_. 

He says some of that, he thinks. Steve looks down at him, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and smiles very faintly. 

“Okay,” he says. He lets the toy slip out of his body, and bends it again. The asset barely has time to register what he’s doing before it’s pressed against his cock and _vibrating_. He lets out another yelp—it’s too much, too good, too _intense_ —and Steve wraps his hand around his cock and the toy and strokes him until he’s so hard it _hurts_. 

Super-soldiers, he thinks dizzily. He’d said they should take advantage, hadn’t he? Or he’d thought it, at least, and Steve . . . 

Steve moves forward. The asset’s brain blanks out. Not in a slip, for once, because this is so unlike anything maintenance ever was he doesn’t think he _could_ slip right now. 

Steve sits down on his cock and the toy together with the faintest little hiss, and it takes everything the asset has not to come _immediately_. 

“Steve,” he gasps out, and Steve shifts his hips and lets him in deeper, toy and all. _“Steve.”_

“Think I can fit both knots?” Steve says in that almost-conversational tone again. The asset whimpers. “Yeah, pretty sure I can.” 

The asset drags at the blankets. The toy keeps fucking _buzzing_. Steve shifts his hips again and the toy’s knot pops right in, and he works himself up and down the asset’s length, dragging around him hot and tight and slow and jarring the toy inside him again and again. The asset might be losing his mind, although it doesn’t feel the way losing his mind usually does. 

“Steeeeeeeeve,” he manages, and can’t manage much else. “Steve, Steve, oh Stevie-doll, baby, sugar, sweetheart, you’re gonna fucking kill me don’t _stop_.” 

“Bucky,” Steve murmurs, putting a hand on his face, still moving around him. “I’m not gonna stop ‘til you beg me to.” 

The asset believes him. Steve reaches back and makes something click on the toy again, some button or switch or dial, and the buzzing intensifies. The asset _yells_. Steve just breathes a little harder, and moves a little slower around him. As fat as the toy is inside him, it’s exactly that fat inside of Steve and he still wants _more_. The asset can’t stop thinking about that, or the warm drip of the other’s slick, or the incessant, pulsing _buzz_. 

He wants to roll them over. He wants to put his teeth in Steve’s neck. He wants Steve’s teeth in _his_ neck. He wants—he wants—

Steve clicks the toy again, and sits down on the asset’s knot. The asset practically blacks out. All he can feel is Steve around him and the toy inside and against him and Steve is just rolling his hips so, so _slowly_ — 

“Please,” he begs, and Steve squeezes down around him. 

“Come in me, Bucky,” he says, and the asset does, and Steve _doesn’t stop_. Steve keeps rolling his hips, grinding down around his knot and weighing him down, and the toy keeps buzzing and shifting. The asset wants to _scream_ , so he does. Steve doesn’t even change his rhythm. 

“I can’t, I can’t,” the asset says, struggling to make sense, and Steve squeezes around him again. 

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks. The asset can’t think of a worse idea. 

_“No,”_ he says. “No, no, don’t stop, fuck, please, _Steve_. You feel so good, baby, I think I’m gonna _cry_.” 

“Does my knot feel good?” Steve asks, and the asset nods vehemently. “Good. I’m gonna leave it in you, keep you all filled up.” 

“Please,” the asset says. 

“And I’ll keep your knot in _me_ ,” Steve says, squeezing it again. The asset curses viciously, body jerking, and Steve gives him a smile so soft it could cut him. “Is that enough? If we’re both tied like that?” 

“No,” the asset manages. “No, I want—I want _more_.” 

He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for. He doesn’t even know what “more” would _be_. 

“Okay,” Steve says, and clicks the toy again. 

Twice. 

That fast, the asset can’t control his hips anymore. The blankets tear under his hands and his hips fuck _up_ and Steve rides his knot and pushes him back down and keeps the toy inside them both. He’s _sure_ he can’t come again but he almost feels like he is, and Steve is so wet and so tight and so _merciless_. 

The asset thinks he’s sobbing. He doesn’t know what else to call the noises he’s making. Steve’s panting, his eyes all hazy, and he keeps going, and going, and _going_ — 

Steve comes on his knot with a hot rush of slick, tightening up painful-perfect, and the asset _wails_. 

“There you go,” Steve breathes, and still doesn’t turn off the toy. The asset gasps and chokes and jerks, clawing at the blankets and desperate for more, less, this, nothing, _everything_. “Does it feel good?” 

_“Yes,”_ the asset sobs, and thinks he comes again, somehow. Thinks he might still be coming, or have never stopped, or is about to, or— 

Fuck, it’s too _much_. 

“Your knot,” he begs, instinctive and senseless. “Your knot, your knot, your _knot_.” 

“Is it big enough?” Steve asks, and the asset nods roughly. He can’t stop shaking. He doesn’t know how Steve can be so _calm_ with them twice-locked like this and the toy still pulsing and buzzing inside them. There’s come and slick leaking out of him where the knots have stretched him wide. The asset wants to lick it up. He wants Steve to never get off his cock again. He wants so _much_. 

“Steeeeve,” he moans, because Steve’s the only one who can give it to him. Steve pushes his hands up his stomach; tugs at his nipples, rolls them between his fingers. The asset can’t possibly come again but his knot _aches_ at the contact. 

He thinks he probably could come again, if Steve wanted him to. 

He thinks he might be about to pass _out_. 

“I’ve got you,” Steve says, pulling off the asset’s softening knot. The asset whines. Steve pulls off the toy, too, but doesn’t turn it off or take it out of the asset. The asset feels too weak to even move, much less find the coordination to do it himself. The knot’s keeping it in tight, keeping him full and stretched and shaking. 

Steve puts a hand on his flank. He _trembles_. 

“Roll over,” Steve murmurs, and somehow the asset manages to. Steve lays down on top of him, and the asset wonders if he’s about to fuck him; push in beside the toy and fill him up even tighter. 

Steve presses his mouth into the back of his neck, teeth grazing his spine, and the asset goes completely limp. Steve’s teeth dig in, and maybe the asset comes again or maybe the asset faints or maybe he’ll never know because everything is just _so much_ and his alpha is _keeping him_. He’s too overwhelmed to move, to speak, to do a single damn thing, and Steve worms a hand in under his stomach and touches his cock and everything after that gets a bit blurry. He’s not sure he’s even awake anymore, much less what he’s feeling. 

It’s really, really good, whatever it is. 

He wakes up again buried in pillows and blankets and wrapped around Steve, who’s sleeping. The toy’s not in him anymore, but _something_ is, and he squirms questioningly and reaches down to touch—rubber? 

Another toy, he realizes; one with an even fatter knot than the first one had. He shivers, hiding his face in the pillows, and touches the base of it. Steve kept him knotted, just like he said he would. The asset bites his lip. He’s half-hard, and it wouldn’t take much to get harder. He wonders how long he was asleep. He wonders when he even _fell_ asleep. He can’t quite remember. 

The toy sits inside him. He squeezes around it. It feels good. 

Steve’s still asleep. The asset doesn’t want to bother him. He shifts onto his back; bites his lip again and puts his hand on his cock like he would never have done for maintenance. He strokes. 

It feels _good_. 

It doesn’t take very long, like he hasn’t already gone too many rounds to count today. He strokes his cock and he thinks about Steve knotting him and he clutches up around Steve’s knot and comes all over himself, panting and whimpering. 

Steve leans over and kisses him. The asset is surprised, but feels too heavy and good to startle. Steve takes his hand and laces their fingers together and licks it clean. The asset melts. Everything is heavy and good and _warm_ and he never, ever wants to move again. 

“You looked beautiful doing that,” Steve murmurs, kissing the back of his hand. 

“You knotted me,” the asset says as the only reasonable response, getting up just enough strength to push into him. Steve hums softly, and his free hand drops to touch the base of the toy inside him, like he’s checking it’s still there. The asset spreads his thighs for him automatically. He wants to eat him out again. He wants Steve to just sit on his face and fucking _suffocate_ him. He thinks even that much effort might be too much, though. 

“You feel okay?” Steve says. 

“I feel so good, alpha,” the asset says, nuzzling his throat, and Steve runs a hand up his back. 

“I’m glad, omega,” he says quietly. The asset remembers that he was upset, before, and wonders if all this was because of that. Even if it was, it’s hard to regret it. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so good. 

“You’re alright?” he asks, laying his right hand carefully on Steve’s curved stomach. “It wasn’t too much?” 

“We’re fine,” Steve promises. “I feel good too.” 

“I like your knot,” the asset says. “What is it?” 

“A plug,” Steve says. “You can leave it in as long as you want.” 

“Okay,” the asset says. He might never take it out, he thinks. He wonders if Steve would mind if he just went around like this from now on, all filled up and stretched and full of his knot, ready for him to fuck whenever. It sounds very, very nice. They might never get out of the bedroom again, but he wouldn’t mind that either. 

He really wouldn’t mind that. 

Steve keeps stroking his back. The asset stays right where he is, obviously, and goes soft under the contact. 

He wonders if Steve feels better yet. He can’t imagine feeling any better himself. 

“Are you still upset?” he asks, though maybe he shouldn’t. 

“I’m fine,” Steve says after a moment’s pause. “Really.” 

The asset doesn’t believe him. 

“Okay,” he says anyway, because Steve wants him to believe him and he wants to do what Steve wants. Maybe that’s the wrong thing to do, but it’s what he’s doing. 

He’s not sure what part of him thinks it might be the wrong thing to do. Doing what Steve wants should _always_ be the right thing. 

Shouldn’t it? 

The asset frowns to himself. Steve pushes a hand through his hair. The asset tips his head into the contact. 

“Bruce said the pups are perfect,” Steve says. “Healthy as possible.” 

“That’s good,” the asset checks carefully, because somehow the way Steve says it is . . . odd. 

“That’s good,” Steve confirms. He pushes his hand through his hair again. The asset tries to figure out what to say, but like always just has the first thing that comes to mind. 

“They’ll be good operatives, then,” he says, and Steve’s hand . . . pauses, for a moment, and then resumes petting. 

“If they want to be,” he says. “Someday.” 

“What else would they be?” the asset says with another frown. 

“I don’t know,” Steve says. “I figure they’ll tell us when they figure it out.” 

“Oh.” The asset looks down at Steve’s stomach, a little unsettled. If they’re not operatives, how will they defend themselves? 

If they’re not operatives, how will he know what to do for them? 

“They need to be able to fight, though,” he says. “If they can’t fight, they won’t be safe.” 

“. . . I know, Bucky,” Steve says, letting out a pained sigh. The asset looks up at his face. Steve looks tired, and like something might’ve hurt him. The asset’s skin prickles uncomfortably. 

“They’ll be safe,” he says abruptly. “I’m good at teaching operatives.” 

“They’re _pups_ ,” Steve says. “We can’t teach pups to fight.” 

“I can,” the asset says. “I’ve taught lots of pups to fight.” 

“You’ve—what?” Steve frowns at him. The asset sits up and looks down at him. He feels Steve’s knot shift inside him and it sends a spike of heat through his gut, but this is miles more important. 

“I’ve taught lots of pups to fight,” he says. “It’s not hard.” 

“. . . when?” Steve asks slowly, still frowning. 

“For HYDRA,” the asset says. “And in Russia. There was a red room, and I taught them how to fight there. They were strong. And those weren’t _your_ pups. Yours will be even stronger.” 

“Bucky . . .” Steve is giving him a very strange look. The asset isn’t concerned. He knows he can do this. 

“I was good at it,” he says. “I’ll be even better, if it’s for your pups.” 

“I . . . alright,” Steve says slowly, still giving him that strange look. “We’ll teach them to fight.” 

“And we won’t hurt them,” the asset says. He’d never liked hurting the pups, but if he hadn’t, they would’ve gotten hurt worse. But this isn’t HYDRA. 

“No,” Steve says, reaching over to squeeze his right arm. “We’ll never hurt them.” 

“Okay.” Something in the asset relaxes. He hadn’t even realized there was tension there. “What else did Banner say?” 

“. . . there’s three of them, definitely,” Steve says. His voice is still a little slow, and his hand is still on the asset’s right arm. “Girls, he said.” 

The asset perks. He can’t help it, really. 

“I like girls,” he says. “I’m good with girls.” 

“Yeah?” Steve glances up at him. 

“The operatives I trained were all girls,” the asset says. 

“What kind of training?” Steve asks. 

“The normal kind,” the asset says. “Strength and agility and kill shots. And we danced.” 

“Danced?” Steve frowns again. 

“I’m good at dancing,” the asset says. 

“I . . . yeah, I know,” Steve says. “But you did that for training?” 

“Yes.” The asset nods. “Ballet, mostly. Makes you strong and agile. Useful cover, too. Good way to ease operatives in.” 

“I didn’t know about that,” Steve says. 

“I didn’t tell you,” the asset says. It’d never come up, after all. “I’ll teach the pups. They’ll be good at it too.” 

“Because you’re good at ballet,” Steve says. 

“I’ll show you sometime,” the asset says. He hasn’t really been training like usual, since coming to the tower—just very basic things—and it wouldn’t hurt to do more again. It’d be _smart_ to do more again, really, and dancing is much less threatening than most of his usual regimen. He’d rather avoid being too threatening right now. 

“Okay.” Steve looks up at him for a long moment, then looks towards the wall. The asset follows his line of sight, but sees nothing there. Steve squeezes his arm again. 

The asset doesn’t really know what to do. He’s thinking about girls, mostly—little ones, who look like Steve. 

Who look like Steve, and maybe love him. 

Yes. He’ll teach them everything he knows. 

He’s still not sure what Steve’s upset about, or what the right thing to do about Steve being upset is, but he knows _that_ much. They’ll be as safe as he can make them, and he’ll kill anyone who tries to lay a hand on a single one of them. 

“Have you thought of any names you like?” Steve asks, and the asset . . . blinks. 

“I get to name them?” he asks. 

“Well, I figured we’d name them together,” Steve says, voice a little wry. The asset gives him a surprised look. He doesn’t know why Steve would want his opinion on something like that. He doesn’t even have a name of his _own_. Not like other people do. “Just think about it, maybe.” 

“Natalia,” the asset says, because it requires very little thinking. Steve looks startled. 

“Natalia?” he repeats. 

“My favorite operative was named Natalia,” the asset says. “She was the best one. She’s dead now.” 

He . . . thinks, anyway. 

“Oh,” Steve says, a briefly pained expression crossing his face. “That’s a nice name.” 

“Yes,” the asset agrees. “I want to name one that.” 

“Okay,” Steve says. “Then we will.” 

“Okay,” the asset says. He touches Steve’s stomach with his right hand. Steve squeezes his arm again. 

It is a nice name. He can have nice things, with Steve. 

It’s . . . nice. 

He should think of a better word for it than that, probably. But for now, whatever works is good enough. 

“Alpha,” he says, a little abrupt as he realizes something that seems important. 

“Yes?” Steve asks. 

“I love you,” the asset says, and Steve’s face goes soft. 

It’s a very nice thing.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr!](http://suzukiblu.tumblr.com/)


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